


Just Tired

by cheeky_nandos



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bullying, Cutting, Freshman Keith (Voltron), Gay Keith (Voltron), Gen, Homophobia, Homophobic Language, Keith (Voltron) Angst, Keith and Shiro are Adoptive Siblings, Keith and Shiro are Siblings, Oneshot, Self-Harm, Shiro (Voltron) Is A Good Brother, Shiro (Voltron) Is A Guidance Counselor, Sibling Love, kangst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-30
Updated: 2018-04-30
Packaged: 2019-04-30 01:20:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14485668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cheeky_nandos/pseuds/cheeky_nandos
Summary: TRIGGER WARNINGSCUTTING/SELF-HARM, BULLYING, HOMOPHOBIA, HOMOPHOBIC LANGUAGE"No can do, you fucking faggot."“What kind of fucking drawings are these? Is this supposed to be a landscape?”"God, your art is terrible you faggot. Stick to cutting yourself.”"“Hah! Look at his body! Likes men, has a thin waist and big hips- trying so hard to be a slut, arentcha you disgusting twink? Why don’t you come out as transgender already, huh?”“Get the fuck out of my sight, nasty dyke."There was silence on the other side of the door for a few seconds, that stretched out into minutes. When it was coherent no response would be coming from the freshman boy, Acxa just sighed and went downstairs. A couple minutes later and there was a clunk at the door- the sound of a platter being placed on the tiled floor. “Whatever’s happening with you Keith, I hope you’re over it soon. You’re becoming more distant and your diet is unhealthy, and everyone’s worried about you… Just be safe, and remember i’m here. So is Shiro, as your older brother, friend, and guidance counselor. You can confide in us.” Footsteps signalled her leave.





	Just Tired

**Author's Note:**

> so i wrote this fic for a friend of mine after i showed her some kangst in another fic i'm working on and she wanted more with shiro and keith sibling happiness, so here it is nymph! it's kinda rushed and sappy and weird but i hope it's okay, i'm mostly just publishing for shits n giggles so enjoy!

“Hey! Let go of my book!” Keith yelped, feeling the soft pink sweater he wore slide down on one thin shoulder as he extended his hand to reach for them.

“No can do, you fucking faggot,” the tall boy jeered, dangling the notebook filled with his art high above his head where he couldn’t reach it. Turning away and butting into the younger boy with his shoulder, he began to flip through the art book while laughing loudly. “What kind of fucking drawings are these? Is this supposed to be a landscape?” 

His finger lingered on a watercolour painting of an ancient Korean gate in front of a leafy forest with a small village, blooming with life. It was promptly ripped out of the book, torn to pieces, and ground into the tiled hall floor with the heel of his boot. Keith couldn’t stop a sob rising in his chest, staring at the artwork he’d spent hours working on to make every detail perfect- which only sent a glare from the larger boy his way as he continued to flip through the notebook. 

“Oh, and is that supposed to be a mountain or something? God, your art is terrible you faggot. Stick to cutting yourself.” This time the painting was that of Mount Fuji in Japan, a sakura tree in full bloom the main focus of the image with a thick dark green forest starting down in the corner and stretching to the foothills of the mountain. This one was too torn from the book, every rip another javelin piercing Keith’s fragile heart even worse than the comments about his self-harm.

He kneeled to the ground, attempting to gather up the ripped pieces of art paper in order to salvage his hard work in some shape or form, when a dirty hand grabbed the back of his baggy sweater and bunched it in the back, smearing mud on the pale pink wool in an ugly pattern. “Hah! Look at his body! Likes men, has a thin waist and big hips- trying so hard to be a slut, arentcha faggot? Why don’t you come out as transgender already, huh?”

“I’m not transgender,” Keith muttered underneath his breath in an attempt to regain his composure, but water brimmed his eyes despite trying not to give in to the urge. No Keith- don’t cry- the last thing they need is more against you.

Tears began to spill down his face, cracking his cheeks and gathering on his chin to drip down and further ruin the shredded pieces of paper littering the floor. His small hands clenched until the knuckles turned white, resting on his thighs and back slouching to try and disguise his face. One arm rose up to wipe at his eyes, which only had the same older guy grasping at his sleeves and pulling them down to reveal the thin white scars running horizontally across his pale wrists, up his arms and coming to a dead stop at his freckled shoulders. He was unable to stop a sob as he was sneered at for having the injuries, more comments about his cutting permeating the barrier he tried to create for himself against the poisonous jabs.

He was hauled up suddenly with a small cry, thrust away from the death point of his treasured art now in pieces, only holding a few of the mountain painting still with him. “Get the fuck out of my sight, you faggot,” the older boy spat at him, and Keith didn’t need to be told twice. He stuffed the remains of his art held in his hands inside of his pockets, running from the scene and off towards his locker in order to gather his belongings before heading home for the day.

Quickly inputting his locker combination he slung the black backpack over one shoulder, rubbing at his eyes furiously in an attempt to banish the tears. Still they lingered on his face, whites of a pretty violet gaze still bloodshot with the aftereffects of crying and the attempts at stopping it from happening. As he left the building there was an anxious call of his name from a familiar voice, but he ignored it in favour of running from the building’s exit up the street to his bus stop. It was mere minutes- painful minutes of people staring at his flushed face- until the bus had arrived, and he was climbing in with his ticket to take a seat near the front.

*

Immediately after returning home he murmured no more than brief hellos to his family before climbing the stairs, a slam of the door behind him indicating he wasn’t coming out until dinner; and maybe not even then. Recently Keith had been known not to make an appearance, even to eat, and instead they would find large quantities of junk food missing and receipts for more of it from various nearby stores. Needless to say, everyone in the family was concerned, but none more than his stepsister Acxa. 

When dinner rolled around and he still hadn't come down, she let out a low sigh and scaled the stairs, knocking on Keith’s door and trying her best not to let irritation creep into her tone. “Keith, you’ve eaten nothing but junk food for days. Why aren’t you at dinner this time? And are you sure you’re doing alright?”

“I’m fine. Just tired.” The voice was coarse and sounded broken, as if he’d been sobbing and his throat was sore.

“Keith, come on-” She tried the door, but it was locked- “let me in. I’m your sister, you can confide in me.”

There was silence on the other side of the door for a few seconds, that stretched out into minutes. When it was coherent no response would be coming from the freshman boy, Acxa just sighed and went downstairs. A couple minutes later and there was a clunk at the door- the sound of a platter being placed on the tiled floor. “Whatever’s happening with you Keith, I hope you’re over it soon. You’re becoming more distant and your diet is unhealthy, and everyone’s worried about you… Just be safe, and remember i’m here. So is Shiro, as your older brother, friend, and guidance counselor. You can confide in us.” Footsteps signalled her leave.

After a drawn-out silence he dropped the knife at his tender wrist and cautiously opened the door, glancing at the dish laid out neatly on the floor. It was his favourite- spaghetti bolognese. His family knew that he loved it, and his stepmother made the best that he’d ever had. That was the only reason he liked her- and looking at the food, he knew that Acxa had convinced her mother to make it tonight just for him. His heart swelled at the thought, kneeling down and grabbing the plate, closing the door behind him and beginning to eat.

*

The next day at school was surprisingly peaceful. Other than Shiro calling Keith down to his office after first period, to tell him that he’d seen him crying yesterday as he was leaving school and if he needed anything then he was here, nothing had really happened. The weather was warm enough he was able to go eat alone and undisturbed in the nearby park, no noise except for the wind swishing through the trees and the idle chatter of nearby students and passerbys. They were doing volume and surface area in math, which was a subject he didn’t suck at, so class wasn’t that painful.

That was, until the last class of the day: Art.

Everything had been going smoothly enough, sketching out new things to pass the time due to the loss of his art book with the good watercolour paper. That was, until a shadow loomed over his page and a lump formed in his throat. Please don’t be him- Please don’t be him- Please don’t be him-

Breath that stunk of the shitty cafeteria poutine assaulted his ears, along with the rough snarky voice of the boy from yesterday. “Whatcha drawin’, faggot?”

Keith shivered at the sensation and the stench, standing up abruptly from his seat and raising his voice suddenly in front of the class. “Mister, may I please use the washroom quickly?”  
The teacher and the rest of the pupils blinked at him in surprise, but a nod sent him scuttling out of the room with a deep breath. This teacher only let one kid out of class at a time as far as he could remember, and he never really paid attention to what was happening inside of it so after a few minutes it was doubtful that the bully wouldn’t be after him. Swerving to purposely avoid the bathroom, Keith dodged around a corner and broke out into a run towards the edge of the property, past the guidance counselor office. He never skipped class, but after yesterday’s confrontation he wouldn’t put it past that particular pupil to pull the sleeves of his shirt down, and expose his new cuts from last night to the entire student body as well as their teacher. The park was the safest place to be, and it only took a few minutes until he was slumping down underneath a tree with a grateful sigh.

Little did he know that it would only be a couple of peaceful seconds until a larger body sunk down next to him. Shiro. Keith braced himself for a scorning, but the words coming from his older brother were entirely sympathetic and concerned.   
“Keith- What’s wrong?”  
“Don’t worry about it Shiro,” he responded sluggishly, closing his eyes and burying his face into his knees. “you know me, i’m fine. Just tired.” Each time he used that excuse for his feelings, it hurt a little bit more.

“You’re not just tired. I may be your guidance counselor, but i’m also your brother. And I know that you never skip class. So what’s wrong?”

Keith could feel frustration broiling in his stomach, escaping in the form of a shout followed by a sob. “You don’t know! We’re not biologically related, you don’t know anything about me!” He broke down completely in Shiro’s arms, who encircled the smaller boy with one arm and used his good hand to stroke his hair soothingly.

“I know all about you Keith. Your favourite colour is red but you also like blue and pink, your favourite food is spaghetti bolognese, you really want to go back to Korea, you love art and watercolour is your favourite. The painting you’re most proud of is one of koi fish in a pond that I still have stuck up in my apartment to this very day.” He recited facts, quirking his thick eyebrows at Keith who was still crying into his jacket. “You can tell me what’s wrong.”

“I- Shiro, you don’t want to know,” he managed to choke out, taking comfort from the warmth of the older man.

“Keith, I want to know what’s troubling you so I can help you. Whatever you’re going through, you don’t have to go through alone.”

Those words comforted him, and curled up against his older brother he found himself relaxing and loosening up. “I- There’s a kid in my art class, his name is Zachary.. He knocked me down in the hall yesterday, told me I was a faggot and that my figure was feminine and slutty, and I might as well come out as transgender already. That my art was terrible-” He cut himself off before he could mention his self-harm. That would cause more conflict than he cared to bring up, and eventually the problem would go away- right?

Shiro frowned, his hand briefly stopping carding through his hair before continuing like it had never happened, despite his voice hardening and touch becoming more aggressive. “Zachary Zarkon? Oh, i’m gonna beat his ass.”

Keith couldn’t stop a chuckle, embracing his brother tighter and looking up at him with a smile ghosting his lips. “Best big brother ever. But don’t beat his ass, or do anything about it really. It’s okay- i’ll get over it.”

“Well obviously i’m not actually going to beat him, I work part-time as a guidance counselor here while I finish my university degree to work full time, and i’m not about to put my position in jeopardy. But seriously, I have the authority to punish him if I see him lay a hand on you or your belongings without consent, so alert me straight away if he gets near you.” Shiro’s tone had lightened but it still held hints of anger, as he patted Keith on the head and gently rested his own on top of the freshman’s in place of his hand. 

Surrounded by the familiar warmth of his brother, Keith felt in his last moments of wakefulness that no matter what happened, everything would be alright.


End file.
